Phineas and Ferb: The First Project
by ShinyAeon
Summary: In which the very young Phineas and Ferb share their first ever big construction project. Probably the fluffiest thing I've ever written. So, yeah.


******The First Project**

Phineas had been good. He hadn't interrupted while Mom, and Mom's new friend with the glasses and the interesting voice, had been talking. As hard as that was for an energetic three-year-old, he'd managed.

___Candace, Phineas, this is Lawrence's son, Ferb._

___Ferb, this is Linda's daughter Candace, and her son Phineas._

Phineas said ___Nice to meet you,_ like Candace had drilled him to, but the whole time he felt like his insides would jump out of his outsides. He was so excited, he could hardly ___stand_ it. But he was being good, so he waited.

Now Mom and Lawrence were sitting at the table, sipping from cups and watching them and talking. When Candace sighed and went to sit on the couch and flip through a book, Phineas felt like he should say something to the other boy, who was standing uncertainly beside his father's chair.

"Your name's Ferb!" he announced.

The green-haired boy in the purple coveralls gave a solemn, cautious nod.

"Hi, Ferb!" Phineas said cheerfully.

Ferb lifted one hand and waved.

Phineas nodded, perfectly content with the non-verbal response.

Mom and Ferb's Dad must have been pleased, too, because now they were smiling, though they looked like they were trying to cover up their smiles with their hands.

Phineas didn't know why anyone would try to hide a smile, but he didn't have time to puzzle over the inscrutable ways of moms and dads. He just couldn't wait any more—he ___had_ to say what he'd been dying to say since Ferb had walked in the house.

"I got blocks!"

He said it in the same tone of voice most children would announce ___it's my birthday_! or ___I saw an elephant!_

Ferb's eyes widened just the tiniest bit—not in a surprised way, but in an interested way.

Phineas grinned—that was exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for. "Over here!"

With no more prompting, Ferb followed his fellow three-year-old over to the carton of blocks on the living room rug.

The blocks were Phineas's favorite toy. They were smooth blocks of a light wood, the corners very slightly rounded for safety: a collection of cubes, rectangles, and a few wedges painted in bright primary colors. They could go together in so many different ways, they never got old. The only problem was there were never enough blocks to keep going—but they were still a lot of fun.

Ever since Mom had said her new friend Lawrence had a boy his age, Phineas had been waiting to ask him to play with the blocks. Candace didn't care for them much, so Phineas usually built things alone, but he was certain blocks would be ___more_ fun with someone else—most everything else was, after all.

Phineas dumped over the box and pushed half the pile to Ferb. Ferb at once showed the proper attitude, settling down on the carpet and regarding the blocks quietly, and then starting to build. Phineas began to build, too, but he was soon more interested in watching Ferb.

Ferb, Phineas noticed, already knew the trick of using the rectangles laying down side-to side, up against each other, to make a square; but when he went to make his next layers, he put each rectangle directly on top of the next one, in effect making two structures that happened to touch.

Phineas knew that this approach was doomed tip over before it got very high. He'd made that mistake many times—now he got to show his solution to someone else! "Wanna see something?" he asked eagerly.

Ferb looked up, then nodded.

"Go 'cross, like this," Phineas said, making the next block straddle the two below it. "It keeps'em together better."

Ferb stared at it, then up at Phineas, with a look of total astonishment. Then he stared hard at the blocks. Phineas watched him, wondering if his new friend was mad. He didn't look mad, though. Just kind of serious.

Suddenly Ferb took down all his blocks and started over, cross-stacking the layers perfectly and producing the tallest structure his share of rectangle blocks would allow.

Phineas beamed, delighted Ferb had liked his trick—and thrilled how fast he'd grasped the full potential of it. "It looks like a chimley," he said admiringly, and Ferb smiled.

Phineas liked the smile. He pushed over some more blocks. "Wanna make it ___real_ tall?"

Ferb nodded, and they both started adding blocks, their tower climbing to incredible heights. Soon they'd actually have to ___stand up_ to keep going!

By the time they got to the fourth new layer, however, the wobbliness of the carpet undermined the structure. The wooden tower tumbled over, and was once again just a jumble of blocks.

Phineas shrugged, grinned, and sighed. "That happens a lot." Tippiness was the bane of all block-buildings. "It's easier in the kitchen, but Mom said no building in there." There wasn't enough room for people to walk and boys to build, she'd told him. Phineas knew which ___he_ thought was more important, but Mom got to say.

Ferb stilled again, staring at the blocks, the carpet, the kitchen floor, and then up at the bookshelf. He got up and toddled over to the shelf, pointed at a tall, thin book, and looked at Phineas.

"You wanna look at books?" Phineas asked, a little disappointed. He'd thought their block game was going pretty good.

But Ferb shook his head. He still, however, rested his hand on the book, and looked inquisitively at Phineas.

It was one of his own books, so Phineas nodded and said, "Sure!" He didn't mind sharing, and now he was curious about what Ferb wanted it for.

Ferb pulled out the big, hard-cover picture book, brought it over and laid it on the carpet amid the blocks.

Phineas's mouth dropped open as he comprehended the plan. "Cool!" He pushed some more blocks toward Ferb, then grabbed some and began to stack them on the book's wide, flat surface.

Ferb added more blocks to the stack

Phineas went on to the next layer, but then he realized Ferb was moving some of the blocks. The other boy was spreading them out, making the base bigger.

Phineas's head tilted as he thought about it, and then suddenly he understood what Ferb was doing, and how it would help prevent the ever-dreaded tippiness. "Great idea, Ferb!"

They both went onto the next layer, taking turns, making each new level a little smaller. Phineas thought of standing the wedges on end to brace the skinniest level; plus it looked cool. Ferb, who was taller, handled the last few pieces.

When it was done, they had used every block, and the tower was taller than Phineas, though not quite as tall as Ferb.

"Hey Mom!" Phineas said. "And Ferb's Dad! And Candace! Look what we built!" He gestured at the tower.

Candace looked up from her book, and tilted her head. "Wow, that's not bad."

"I say, that's impressive," Lawrence said. "Well-structured, too!"

"It sure is," Mom said with a brilliant smile. "That's the tallest tower you've ever built, Phineas!"

"Me and Ferb built it!" Phineas said, gesturing to the other boy. He grinned wider. "He's really smart!"

Ferb reached out and pointed to Phineas, his other fingers spreading for emphasis.

"Thanks, Ferb!" Phineas said. He beamed at the adults. "Ferb thinks I'm smart, too!"

Candace frowned. "How do you know that? He didn't say a thing!"

But Phineas was already turning back to the blocks. "Wanna make another one?"

Ferb nodded, and smiled.

"Yay!" Phineas said. And they got back to work.


End file.
